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Jameson’s hands.
“Let me get those for you, Lily.”
He never calls me Lily. He always calls me Lemon or babe. But that’s only when we’re alone. He can’t call me anything other than my name when we’re in a room full of people. Even if I never want to hear him call me by name ever again. I’m Lemon to him, and only him.
“Where did you two disappear to? How did it take forty-five minutes to get coffee from next door?” Jacks is frowning from Selena to me and back again.
“Girl talk, Nugget. Girl talk.”
chapter twenty-eight
jameson
It feels almost perfect. My whole family is together. My girl is here.
Only no one fucking knows that she’s my girl. I need to change that. I need Lily to agree to tell people about us. I’m just not sure how to get her to see reason.
I thought this was a good idea, bringing everyone together to help Lily with her shop. But it’s harder than I’d like to admit having to pretend I’m no different to her than Jarret or Jenson. And way less important to her than Jacks and Gunnar.
It’s fucking killing me.
My arms should be wrapped around Lily like my brother’s arms are always wrapped around Selena. I should be able to reach out and take her hand. Kiss her like I want to, no matter who’s around.
Instead of grabbing onto my girl like I want to, I keep my hands busy all day. I lost track of how many trips we made to the dump, but by four o’clock, the shop’s cleared out.
Lily and Selena come in after us and clean and organize everything.
The shop looks damn good by the end of the day. It still needs a couple of coats of paint and the new shelves I’m building. Then Lily can fill the whole place up with her plants and all the little bottles she’s been stocking up back at her house. It’s a good thing she has extra bedrooms, because two of them are nearly overflowing with tiny little bottles and tubs. I don’t know what any of it is, but it all smells good enough to eat. Just like her. And her greenhouse is bursting at the seams. I keep thinking about doing something with the old detached garage at her place. Emptying it out and turning it into a grow house for her. But between the shelves I’m building and spending as much time fucking Lily as I can, I haven’t got around to it yet.
“Where are the cold beers, Lil?” Jasper asks, wiping his heavy work gloves against his face.
She shrugs. “At home in your fridge? I didn’t know anyone was coming here today.”
When Jasper makes a well do something about it motion with his arms, Lily rolls her eyes at him.
“Fine. Why don’t I go pick up some cold beers for all you hardworking idiots?”
“I’ll go with you. Help you carry ’em all back,” I mutter, taking off my work gloves. “We’ll be right back.”
Lily picks her little blue purse up off of the retail counter and puts it over her head so it lays across her body, pressing in between her big tits. She’s wearing an old t-shirt from Jacks’ first movie, the length of it tied in a little knot at the waist of her jean shorts. When I hold the shop door open for her, she walks ahead of me through it. Her ass looks damn fine in the jean shorts she’s wearing today. My girl and her little fucking jean shorts. She’s killing me right now, and she doesn’t even know it.
Lily stares up at me as we walk down the block toward the liquor store.
“What? How were you going to carry all these beers by yourself?”
She glances back towards the shop and then turns back to stare up at me. “It’s not that. I just can’t believe you did all this for me.”
“Why not? I keep telling you I’d do anything for you, Lemon.”
“I think I’m starting to get that.”
When we walk into the liquor store, Lily and I head to the back where the beer cooler is. I pick up two twenty-four packs of lager, and Lily picks up a couple of twelve packs of a local IPA out of Western Mountain.
“You’re not going to let me pay for this, are you, kid?”
“Nope,” I tell her with a grin.
“This is a lot of beer. We don’t need all of this.”
